


Do You Take This Man?

by eeyore9990



Series: 30 Thankful Days (2016) [12]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Miscommunication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 05:48:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8699671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eeyore9990/pseuds/eeyore9990
Summary: The house was quiet, dammit, and that was wrong.  Derek was, after all, married to Stiles.--In which love causes all kinds of panic.





	

**Author's Note:**

> 30 Thankful Days, Day 12: Gift for anonymous.

The house was quiet when Derek got home that night; quiet and dark and _eerie_ in a way that sent chills skittering down Derek's spine. He went instantly on alert like he hadn't done since… God, it had been _years_ since he'd last felt this level of hyper awareness.

But it was _quiet,_ dammit, and that was _wrong._ He was, after all, married to Stiles.

Drawing a breath to center himself, Derek reached out with his senses. The sound of Stiles' heartbeat was at once soothing and terrifying because while its presence meant he was here, it was beating double-time, like he'd worked himself into a panic attack or--

Derek didn't bother standing around to analyze any of the reasons Stiles' heart rate might be elevated. He simply dropped his briefcase and ran toward the study, where Stiles was sitting in the dark, long fingers clenched around a photo frame -- the one that held the picture of them snapped by the Sheriff on their wedding day, some random corner of his brain supplied -- and throwing off a confusing blend of chemosignals.

"Stiles?" Derek asked, keeping his voice hushed, not wanting to panic Stiles further than he already appeared to be.

Stiles dashed a hand over his face though from where Derek stood it appeared to be dry of any tears. But the fact that Stiles thought there might be some to hide -- the fact that he was trying to _hide_ them in the first place -- made Derek's stomach churn with nauseated horror. Because… this. This whole scene.

It was straight out of his latest nightmares.

"Stiles?" he asked again, his voice a little higher, beseeching. Derek stepped further into the room before automatically retreating when Stiles turned toward him, his eyes dark and sorrowful.

"I--" Stiles' voice cracked, making him pause a moment, his throat working audibly, before he tried again. "I'm just… I thought I loved you."

With those five tiny, cracked words, the bottom dropped out of Derek's world.

"I really did," Stiles went on, sounding… confused. Confused, while he was tearing Derek's heart from his chest.

"What?" Derek whispered hoarsely, trying to work moisture back into a mouth gone acrid and dry with gut-wrenching fear. Fear more terrifying than anything he'd felt since his sixteen-year-old self had seen the smoke rising from the preserve and felt the bonds to his pack -- his _family_ \-- snapping one by one.

He couldn't survive that again.

But he also couldn't put his words together. Couldn't decide between 'what did I do' and 'why.' Why now, why this, _why_?

When Derek had walked out the door after lunch, everything had been perfect. Or maybe not _perfect_ in that Norman Rockwell painting way, but it had been… everything. It had been a kiss brushing his jaw as Stiles typed away at his manuscript, too busy trying to get just the right phrasing for the tricky bit of dialogue he was working through to actually look where his lips were landing. It had been the cup of tea at his elbow going cold as he graded papers and then Stiles poking him in the ribs after reheating it -- just to let him know it was there so he didn't scald himself. It had been waking up that morning wrapped together, both of them grumbling in unison at the alarm before agreeing that five more minutes was necessary to their general mental health. It had been the way they always touched, lingering and grounding. It had been the way they could count on each other on those nights when nothing could keep the memories at bay.

It might not be perfect for anyone else, but it was perfect for _them._

Or. So he'd thought.

Derek didn't realize he was whining, high and distressed, until Stiles was there, wrapped around him and holding him tight, both of them shaking too hard. 

"No, no, no," Stiles rushed out, clinging to Derek harder. "Not like--"

"I'm sorry," Derek gasped, needing to do or say whatever he could to make this right. To take back whatever he'd done that had made it wrong in the first place.

"No, god, Derek. I'm sorry. Me! I'm sorry, because that wasn't--" And then Stiles was letting out a whine of his own and burying his face in Derek's neck, his grip nearly choking Derek it was so strong. "That's not," he started again, shuddering, "what I meant. I just… I feel like… Wait, wait, no." Unwrapping his arms from around Derek's neck, Stiles cupped Derek's jaw in his hands so tenderly that Derek could only close his eyes as grief swamped him again.

He braced himself, tried to prepare himself for never feeling this again, even as he shifted his hold on Stiles to prevent him from slipping to the floor.

"I love you," Stiles said, and it was said with such conviction that Stiles' voice sounded hard, fierce. "I love you so much that I…" He sighed again, his breath washing over Derek's face smelling bitterly of old coffee. "I think I need to start over."

Derek breathed, felt the panic that had gripped him begin to loosen its claws from his chest, and then breathed again. When he felt capable of it, he slowly opened his eyes and nodded. "Please. Please start over, because I--"

And then somehow, even with him trying to hold on, Stiles was slithering from his grasp in a way that made the panic flare all over again.

Only instead of running away, Stiles dropped down to one knee and grabbed hold of Derek's hand bringing it to his lips so he could press his lips to the body-warm band of gold that lived there. "Will you marry me?" Stiles asked, voice once more filled with all the terrible, tangled emotions Derek had sensed upon first walking in.

"Stiles--" Confusion was difficult for Derek to deal with on a good day. This? With his own emotions crashing around him, Derek couldn't handle… this.

"No, please, Derek. Please? Please marry me again? I promise it's not-- I thought I loved you then. That day? I thought I loved you as much as it was possible to love a person, but I… Derek, I love you _so much more_ now that… I know what I felt then was just a shadow. I need to do this. I need to--"

Derek crashed to his knees beside Stiles because he finally understood Stiles' panic and distress. It was terrifying, truly, how much this man meant to him. How _necessary_ he was to Derek's own happiness.

"I love you so much more," Stiles breathed, sounding shaken. "How could I have loved you then if _this_ is love?" 

And… and Derek stopped thinking. Stopped trying to examine it, because his perfect life was perfect again, now that he had Stiles back in his arms, their words of love garbled between kisses.

\-- 

They renewed their vows a month later on their second anniversary.

\-- 

The third time Stiles proposed was less dramatic by far, but also more emotional in so many ways because it happened to coincide with Derek holding their daughter for the first time. 

He didn't even look away from her perfect, red and angrily-scrunched face when he agreed. 

\-- 

Derek had to hold Stiles' cane for him the twelfth time they stood before a minister. As he said the words again, he tried to recall the first time. Tried to remember the exact shade of Stiles' hair at twenty, the feel of his young, supple skin. But he found that, in that moment at least, it was the gray of Stiles' hair that called to him. The way he could count their years together in the lines in his husband's skin that made his heart swell in his chest until it felt like it'd burst. 

The faces of their remaining family and friends faded into mere background noise as Derek leaned forward to kiss his husband. 

"Will you marry me again?" he asked softly, giving thanks for Stiles' new hearing aids even as he ignored the bursts of laughter from the side of the gathered family and friends with enhanced senses. "I love you more today than yesterday."

"Only if you marry me again the day after that," Stiles rasped back, reaching up with a arthritic hand to brush along the side of Derek's jaw. "Because if there's one certainty in life, it's that I'll love you more tomorrow."


End file.
